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Why I Hate Algebra
So, I’m sitting in this deplorable class called Algebra II. As if one wasn’t enough (and I hear that lots of schools actually teach three years of this crap). Our teacher seems nice enough, though we could do without the frequent stories about her boyfriend. Not to mention that all the guys think she’s so hot and suck up to her. She’s not that hot, in my opinion, if my opinion even counts. She has tons of pictures of her and her friends partying on the bulletin board. Very classy, Miss Horn (only name not changed in this little rant), very classy. She begins class by writing some equations on the board and then attempting to explain to us how to solve them. Unfortunately, she’s not that great at explaining things. She lacks the experience that older teachers have, but ah well, she is right out of college after all, and she’s a half-decent teacher, at times. I wish I could say that we have a half-decent class.
The girl sitting next to me, who we shall refer to as D, is not the brightest crayon in the box, nor the sharpest tool in the shed. She tries, and sometimes she succeeds, but most of the time she fails. “When you divide by the reciprocal, you get a final answer of x equals negative four,” Miss Horn says as she finishes the problem and steps back from the board. “Any questions?” she asks.
D raises her hand. “Um…yeah, I don’t get it. What do you divide by?” she inquires.
“The reciprocal,” Miss Horn repeats.
“The what?”
“The re-ci-pro-cal,” Miss Horn says yet again, slowly this time. Her patience is wearing thin.
“Oooh, okay! Thanks!” D is quite pleased. The rest of the class is rather pissed, however, because she asks stupid questions a lot. D means well, but I’d guess that she’s the second most hated person in class.
Miss Horn is writing on the board again, walking us through a new problem. It’s a long one, and when she finally finishes she announces the answer with enthusiasm. “5/8ths,” she delivers with a smile. But all is not well in her classroom, for the student directly behind me just happens to be frowning.
“Miss Horn,” Trixie (name changed to a more appropriate, hooker-sounding name) calls out, not bothering to raise her hand. “I don’t think that’s right, I got a different answer.” The class collectively groans. Here she goes again.
“Oh…really?” Miss Horn sounds a bit hurt.
“Well, see, I added this fraction, and my final answer was 2/5ths,” Trixie continues to explain her thought process to Miss Horn, but nobody else is listening. They’re all muttering under their breath about how Miss Horn’s answer is definitely right. The exchange continues for a few minutes, Trixie vs. Miss Horn and the rest of the class. Eventually the evil Trixie is defeated, and she is forced to accept that she simply did not have the right answer. Again. But alas, she shall be back…and we will vanquish the foul demon and- um, sorry. Got a little carried away there!
We continue on with our studies of this terrible beast known as mathematics and ponder the questions every student ponders, “Why the hell do we need to know this stuff, anyway? When are we gonna use this in life?” We will probably never know the answers to these questions, sadly. Oh, but what is this? Miss Horn has the results of the quiz we took yesterday! She passes them back to us one by one, slowly and deliberately. She stops by Kalysta’s (I just picked a random name for this one, really) desk and grins as she hands her quiz back to her. “Congrats,” says Miss Horn, “You got the highest score!”
Kalysta stares at the quiz, eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief. “B-but…I got a 99%! How could this be?! I worked so hard on these problems! I’M A FAILURE!” And the poor girl goes on and on and on and OH, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME! It’s 10:55, I’m outta this hellhole!
Until tomorrow, that is.
 wish_impossible_things · Wed Sep 12, 2007 @ 03:29am · 0 Comments |
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